


Frisk's Origin

by Yoshachu



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Birthday Party, Bullying, Chara Is Dead, Chara and Frisk are Siblings, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Confrontations, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Female Chara, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Non-Binary Frisk, Reader Is Frisk, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6975589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoshachu/pseuds/Yoshachu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Learn how Frisk fell into the Underground in the first place, and why they chose to stay with the monsters rather than their parents afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: You Don't Understand

 

 

You don't understand. You just don't understand.

You don't understand how they all could be so nice to you, so kind, so gentle.

After all, you've never done anything right in your life. They really have no reason to love you, no reason to appreciate the things you do, no reason to care about your well-being.

All you've known all your life is how to accept that anything and everything that happened was all your fault. It wouldn't even matter what it was. Heck, someone on the other side of the planet could fall deathly ill and they'll find someway to blame you for it.

All you've known all your life is how to stay quiet and out of the way to the best of your ability. You're always hiding in your room the moment you come back home, listening in fear to the sound of your mother and father violently arguing. You would cry yourself to sleep every night hiding under your bed covers, jumping to the sound of each crash and bang out in the living room, hoping and praying you didn't do anything wrong earlier for them to have an excuse to fling their wrath upon you.

All you've known all your life is how to be the absolute perfect child. You were never truly good at it, and the mental scars of past beatings really showed. The scariest things in the world were no match for the horror that were your angry parents. You always ended up trying too hard to please them, and often you would slip up one way or another and be repeatedly punished for it.

Your mother and father were unsurprisingly the neglectful, overly strict, and abusive types. It was no surprise you were just an accident when your parents were unprepared and unprotected, and they absolutely despised needing to own up to said accident by caring for you. They would fight every night over who needed to take care of you the next day, and more times than not they'd finally agree to just let you fend for yourself once you got back home from school.

They would neglect you and refuse to give you the proper love and attention a young child needs to grow. They wouldn't feed you most nights, so you had to rely on lunch you got at school - that is if your bullies didn't trip you to make you spill it or just simply throw it off the table and onto the ground - to keep yourself fed. You would always eat very little during lunch so your could bring just enough back home to barely make it through the night. Your parents didn't always refuse to feed you, though you often wish they did; what they would give you would be disgusting slop made from the remains of whatever they had that night mixed with boiling-hot water and occasionally served with a slice of stale or moldy white bread. Sometimes you'd get sick from it, and - surprise, surprise - your parents would get angry at you for "not appreciating their attempts to care for you".

Your parents were also extremely strict, and they believed in violence being the only punishment, though on occasion they'd also do other things on top of beatings like ban you from hanging out with the one friend you have after school for a month. A lot of the time these punishments end with you unable to sit right for weeks on end. You have been trained not to step out of line, yet sometimes you just couldn't put your teachings into good use at the right moment, and you know you'd instantly regret it for the next few weeks.

You were taught and trained that you were useless, that you were a waste of time and space, that you couldn't do a single thing right. So... Why didn't they think so? Why do they act the way they do around you with such compassion and love?

Why does Toriel make you butterscotch-cinnamon pie and let you sleep in her lap as she lovingly strokes her filed claws through your hair?

Why does Papyrus enjoy making puzzles and spaghetti for you to test?

Why does Undyne hug you with just enough strength that lets you know she'll never let anyone hurt you ever again?

Why does Alphys like to nerd out with you and have friendly debates on the quality of animes and science?

Why does Sans always strive to make you smile and laugh with his puns and jokes?

Why does Asgore talk so gently and kindly to you, as if speaking too abruptly could shatter you like glass?

Your parents told you you didn't deserve any of the things the monsters give you now. You don't deserve anyone's compassion, anyone's attention, anyone's hugs, anyone's company, anyone's humor, anyone's gentleness.

So why do the monsters choose to give these things to you regardless?

You don't understand.


	2. Just Another Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter in particular takes place before Frisk falls into the Underground (obviously), and my take on their human name is Tabitha to prevent confusion.

It's 2:55 in the afternoon on a Friday. Your first grade teacher, Ms. Hearthsbringer, lets the students chat among themselves for the last five minutes of class. The only rule she issues is for them to keep to their inside voices.

A rule that, which is typical for six- and seven-year-olds, is unsurprisingly not followed.

All the students practically scream conversations to the kids next to them, trying to be heard over the other loud chattering filling the room and drowning out the teacher trying to repeat her rule for the umpteenth time that day.

Well, almost all students were shouting.

You sit there in the front of the classroom staring down at your desk, your hands wrapped around your stomach and your back hunched over. Your right leg bounces up and down repeatedly, shaking your entire desk and even causing a pencil to roll off its surface, but you're too distracted to take notice. This leg bouncing thing is a nervous little quirk of yours, something that you do either out of comfort or as a vain attempt to comfort yourself. Your parents absolutely hate this little habit of yours, but try as you might you just can't let it die.

Oh, man. Your parents. The one thing that's making you extremely anxious races across your mind once again, and your leg bounces faster and faster, almost as if it had a mind of its own. You don't understand why children are so reluctant to go to school and eager to leave. School is your salvation from the torment and trauma that goes on at home. You can't wait to wake up the next morning to go to school just so you can get out of that house. You dread the end of the day because you know that once that 3 o' clock bell rings you'll have to board the school buss and go home. It was worse on Fridays, where you'd have to go two extra days without going to school and being free from your parents.

School still had its fair share of hardship, and sometimes you question of playing sick to stay home would be better than to face the multiple bullies awaiting you so they can push you off the swings or trip you as you make your way across the cafeteria to the one cold table in the back of the room where you eat alone. Of course, it's not like your parents would let you skip a day anyway - you could be having a horrible fever, stomach flu, and foreign disease and they'd still send you to school. Still, the idea of you actually having a choice, regardless of what said choice is, still comforts you.

You're bullied almost every day by students at your school, typically by the fourth graders. But sometimes, even the kindergartners like to gang up on you; because of your refusal to fight and stand up for yourself, you've earned yourself the nickname of "Lil' It". And why are you being bullied? Because of things you can't control: your small eyes, your short and messy hair, your ragged clothing. But the biggest reason is for your gender-neutralism. You've always believed in fairness in the world, and you can't stand discrimination of any kind, especially when it comes to gender. You prefer they/them pronouns as opposed to she/her pronouns - you were naturally born a girl - and students at your school either call you "she", "her", or "it" just to spite you. Even the teachers either refuse to address you gender-neutrally or they're always forgetting not to refer to you as a female.

And of course your parents don't agree with this; they believe that people should embrace the genders they were born as, and anything else is sinful. Yeah, your parents are  _very_ religious, always discriminating same-sex marriage and believing in the good of sacrifice to God, which coincidentally is always practiced whenever you grow attached to anything.

The only friend you have in the entire world is named Sarah Lite, and she's a third-grader. She's had her own fair share of bullying, being called old woman all the time due to her progeria. She is almost always out of school at the hospital for her rare disease, but whenever she is in school she's very distant. You're not sure if she felt the same pain you were going through by being bullied or if she just wanted to feel more secure by being around someone who understands her on a personal level, but she quickly became your friend during the beginning of the school year. You've learned overtime that she's an extremely sweet and passionate girl, and you can't help but wish that someone so worthy of friendship didn't choose someone like you to befriend. She totally deserved someone better, and if it weren't for her disease she'd probably make a friend out of every student in school. One day during the middle of the school year she collapsed during recess screaming bloody murder when someone kicked her fragile leg. She was sent to the hospital once again, and you hadn't seen her since. What's worse is the student who kicked her - who was a bully by the way - didn't even get in trouble for what he did. Now your only friend you ever had in your entire life is gone, probably never to be seen ever again.

_Ring!_

You yelp and jump in your seat at the sound of the 3 o' clock bell ringing, and you watched as all the students filed out of the classroom as if some invisible life-threatening force was chasing them and they were running for their lives. You sigh in defeat and begin to slowly close your binder and slide it in your backpack. You slip out of your seat and swing the bag over your shoulder as you slowly make your way out of the classroom.

"Tab- Frisk," Ms. Hearthsbringer spoke up, remembering at the last second to use the name you chose to give yourself rather than your birth name. You turn to her and watch as she walks up to you, your dropped pencil you left intentionally in her hand. She gently hands it over to you. "Don't forget your pencil."

"Thanks," you rasp in a barely audible whisper. You're always extremely quiet, trained by your parents and bullies to not get on anyone's nerves by speaking, so you haven't exercised your vocal chords nearly as much as you should have. You take the pencil and slide it in your backpack's side pocket.

"Frisk," the teacher began, bending down on one knee and placing a hand on your shoulder. "You be careful going home today, okay? Remember to sit in the front of the bus today. Mr. VanKretchmar will make sure no one takes your seat."

"Thanks," you repeat, forcing a tiny smile as you look up into her concerned blue eyes. You really like Ms. Hearthsbringer. She's always trying to do what she can to help all her students, but she seems to like helping you the most. You don't want to tell her about all the things that goes on at home, but you still can't shake the feeling she already has a good idea as to what you're going through. She may not always remember to use your chosen name, but at least she makes an attempt to remember unlike everyone else.

Ms. Hearthsbringer smiles kindly and stands back up. "Be good this weekend. I'll see you Monday."

"Okay." You give a small nod, and you turn to walk out of the classroom.

You walk out of the school building to find gray clouds blocking out the sun and blue sky, and there are multiple puddles on the ground. It had been raining a lot recently, and it looks as though it's going to rain again. You watch as children rush to the bus to claim the best seats in the back as others group around the front of the school to talk to one another as they wait for their parents to pick them up. Heaving a shaky sigh, you begin making your way towards the bus.

That is until something trips you.

You let out a cry as you fall to the ground, your hands and knees skidding against the wet, gritty sidewalk. You wince in pain and sharply inhale to keep at bay a shout. Laughter is heard behind you, and you already know who tripped you without having to look back. Your stomach knots in fear.

"Better watch out where you're goin', Lil' It!" a young boy who goes by the name Ray Johnsmith sneered.

"Aww, look, you made it cry!" a girl named Sabrina Lilie cooed mockingly, using the "it" pronoun you absolutely despise. "Looks like we won't need the rain to drown us all, it'll use its tears instead!"

"What's wrong, Lil' It?" a second boy, Aaron Huntsman, taunted. "Did you get a boo-boo?"

"I... I just wanna go home..." you whimper, trying to stand back up. You feel someone push you hard on your back, knocking you back down to the ground.

"Well, we just wanna pay Lil' It a visit, what's wrong with that?" Ray snickered.

"Come on, let's not call it Lil' It, it has a name," Sabrina laughed cruelly. "What was it? Frisk? What kinda dumb name is that anyway?"

"Yeah, that's such a stupid name, even stupider than Tabitha!" Aaron agreed. "Just saying that name makes me wanna throw up! Tabitha!" He begins to make loud gagging noises, and the other two kids laugh.

"Please leave me alone..." you plead softly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you look up at your bullies. Sabrina and Aaron only laughed harder.

"Are you crying?" Sabrina shouted. "Wow, you're such a crybaby! Maybe we should call you Crybaby It instead!"

"Crybaby It, that's genius!" Aaron grinned wickedly.

However, Ray wasn't laughing. Instead, he was glaring down at you angrily. "You tryin' to tell us what to do? We talk about this, you lil' brat; you don't got no room to give me orders!"

"What should we do to it?" Aaron asked. "Number three? I love doing number three!"

You can't help but whimper loudly as you wrap your arms around your stomach defensively. You knew all too well what number three was: kicks to the stomach. The last time these three pulled a number three on you you ended up coughing up your lunch, and you had severe emetophobia.

"Nah, I have a better idea. Let's do number eight instead."

Fear pulsed through your veins. Number eight was almost as bad as number three!

"Gotcha, Ray!" Aaron grabbed your left arm and pinned it down as Ray pinned your right and Sabrina sat on your legs. You were completely immobilized now, but you still tried to struggle and kick yourself free.

"Please no!" you squeaked desperately.

Sabrina wasted no time at all. She lifted up your ragged blue and pink sweater to reveal your bare belly, then she began skittering and dancing her well-kept fingernails along it. You squeal almost immediately, and your laughter drowns out all possible attempts to beg for mercy. You absolutely hated being tickled, and these three knew it, too. That's why they chose Sabrina to be the tickler as the other two boys used their strength to hold you down; her nails were a ticklish nightmare!

Tears were falling down your cheeks and your stomach and cheeks began to ache from laughing too hard by the time a loud engine roared to life. Sabrina halted her tickle onslaught to look up, as did the other two boys, and you tried to look behind you to see what caught their attention. You let out a cry as you watch the bus close its door and drive off. You struggle harder against your bullies, crying out, "No! Wait! Don't leave me!" Unfortunately, the bus driver didn't hear you - how could he? - and he drove the bus off, leaving you stuck at school.

"Uh-oh!" Sabrina taunted with a smirk. "Looks like you're stuck here with us, Crybaby It! Now, why don't we give that little belly button of yours some attention?"

You're not sure how much time passed, but you didn't really care. All you cared about was getting away from these three jerks and Sabrina's horribly tickly fingernails as they danced and drummed against your belly button, which just happened to be your sweet spot. You try calling out for others to help through your hysterical laughter, but they either ignored you, fled the scene to avoid being bullied themselves, or stuck around to watch the show and laugh at your fruitless attempts to free yourself. You've never felt so humiliated in all your life.

"That's enough!" a voice suddenly barked. Sabrina stopped tickling and Ray and Aaron let go of your arms as the quick clacking of high heels against the sidewalk grew louder and louder. You wheeze and cough as you struggle to remember how to breathe properly, and you blink tears out of your eyes and tiredly lift your head to see Ms. Hearthsbringer storming towards the bullies. The three kids quickly climb off of you and back away a bit, looking very nervous.

"You three leave Frisk alone right this instant!" she snapped at them, causing them to flinch. At this point, any student who hadn't been picked up yet were all crowding around in the sidelines watching the scene unfold. All three bullies looked down guiltily - though they only looked that way because they were caught, not because they felt bad for what they did to you - as the teacher glared at them sternly.

"Sorry," they murmured.

"Don't say sorry to me," Ms. Hearthsbringer demanded. "Say sorry to Frisk. You should be kind to your fellow students and treat others the way you want to be treated."

The teacher bent down to you and slowly helped you up to your feet before inspecting your palms and knees, gasping lightly at the scrapes that were now caked with dry blood. You dare to look at the three bullies, and fear jolts through you as you find they're all glaring at you angrily, clearly blaming you for them getting into trouble.

"I said, apologize to Frisk!" Ms. Hearthbringer's command startled you and made you jump, and you saw her glare back at the students. All three looked down and grumbled, "Sorry, Frisk.", not at all sounding sorry. The teacher demanded they said it again and mean it, and when they apologized again it sounded just a tiny bit more sincere, but you knew all too well it wasn't.

Once the three students were dismissed, they shoot one last nasty glare at you before walking away. Ms. Hearthsbringer stood back up and looked down at you, looking very worried. "Frisk, are you okay?"

You nod your head slowly, not meeting her eyes. You know you told a lie; in reality, you aren't fine at all. Now that the bus left without you, you know the only way for you to get home is for your dad to leave work early to pick you up. You remember what happened last time he had to do that, and you still remember awful beating you got from it. You couldn't sit right for about a month, and on top of that any food you stuck back home from school was taken from you and burned as a sacrifice to God, something you were forced to partake in despite you being an atheist.

"Come along, then." Ms. Hearthsbringer held out a hand for you to take, which you did, and she leads you back into the school building, picking up your backpack as she goes. She leads you to the front office and gestures for you to sit in a chair before going into the back where teachers liked to hang out. You hear her speaking in the other room, and you guess that she's calling your father, furrowing your brows in annoyance as she uses your birth name instead of your own chosen name. Your parents always get angry whenever someone refers to you as Frisk and not Tabitha.

After a few minutes, Ms. Hearthsbringer walks back into view and sits down next to you, giving you a gentle smile. You can tell it's a bit forced, and this unsettles you. You can just tell that your father was extremely angry to know he had to leave work early to come pick you up, and you dread having to go home even more than usual.

* * *

About an hour went by since your teacher phoned your father. At this point, all the car-rider students have been picked up and now you were the only student remaining at school. A few of the teachers also left, but most of them stayed behind to do some kind of teacher work for Monday. However, Ms. Hearthsbringer refused to leave your side. Perhaps she sensed how tense and anxious you were and decided to keep you company; this didn't really help your anxiety much, but it was definitely much appreciated nevertheless.

The phone on the front office desk beeped loudly, which made you nearly jump out of your skin, and you felt your teacher gently place a hand on your lap to try and calm you. The secretary rushed to her front desk from the back room to view the screen next to the phone, which showed what the cameras saw around the school. Your heart nearly skips a beat as you recognize your father standing outside, and once the secretary recognizes him she presses a button that unlocks the school doors.

Your leg begins bouncing rapidly in a desperate - yet futile - attempt to comfort yourself as you hear the doors being opened. You dare to look up just in time to see your father walk into the front office. He spots you very quickly, and he begins walking towards you; you can tell his muscles are very tense and his hands are lightly balled into fists as he refrains from exploding on you right in front of school staff.

You shrink back a bit and let out a tiny squeak. Ms. Hearthsbringer must have noticed your fearful actions, for she quickly stood up and approached him, taking what was almost a defensive stance in front of you.

"Hello, Mr. Turr," she greets, keeping her voice calm and level as she addresses your father.

He gives her a curt nod before glaring at you and pointing to the space next to him. He speaks swiftly and strictly. "You. Here. Now."

You immediately obey, leaping up as fast as you can and grabbing your backpack to race to his side to prevent angering him anymore than he already is. You struggle not to tremble in fear as you clutch your backpack close to your chest for comfort, and you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"Mr. Turr, you must understand, Fri- er, Tabitha was seen being harassed by some students," Ms. Hearthsbringer quickly elaborated. "That's why she missed the bus. It was not her fault."

Your father glares a bit at her, and you notice his jaw clenching as she almost calls you Frisk. He seemed to have not care, for he didn't address the slip-up. "That is no excuse. She needs to learn how to defend herself."

"She's only a first-grader," your teacher gently argued.

"She's my child, I think I noticed," your father growled back. "Children can't have their parents hold their hands for them forever. They need to learn how to fend for themselves."

"At this young age? I-"

"Ms. Hearthsbringer," a new voice spoke up. You look to see your principal, Mr. Brown, approaching her. "Mr. Turr here needs to get his child home. It's too late in the day for children to be at school."

Ms. Hearthsbringer looked like she wanted to argue, but she knew better than to challenge her boss and stayed quiet. She shot you a look that clearly said, "Stay safe." You tremble and nod as your father grips your hand so tightly you feel as though your bones would shatter.

Your father walks out of the school, roughly pulling you along. You struggle to keep up with him as he's walking fast, and you almost end up dropping your backpack. Once at the car, he finally lets go of your hand, but you don't stop to rub it. Instead, you immediately get into the back seat and buckle up as to not make him wait for you and become even more angry. Once you're buckled in, you begin to rub your hand, wincing a bit at the pain, as your father climbs in and slams the door closed with much force. You barely hold back a yelp of alarm, but you can't stop yourself from jumping a bit.

Your father doesn't start the car yet. First, he turns his body around to glare at you with much rage that makes you wish you could just sink into the car seat and disappear forever. He holds this glare for a few moments before grunting, "We're going to have a little talk about this when we get home with your mother." With that, he turns back around, buckles up, and starts the car before harshly pulling out of the school parking lot and speeding into the highway.

You honestly don't know if he can get any angrier. But at the same time you know this isn't even a fraction of how livid he can get. You have a sinking feeling he's going to reach that level of rage. You think you're going to be sick.

It takes your father about fifteen minutes to drive back home. He speeds into the graveled driveway before skidding to a screechy halt. You're thankful you had your seat belt on, otherwise you'd probably fly straight through the windshield.

Your father whips off his seat belt and glares at you with much more anger than before you left the school, and he snarls, "Get out."

You nod quickly and oblige, taking off your seat belt and climbing out of the car while pulling out your backpack. You quietly follow your father to the front door, where he unlocks it and swings it open, causing it to slap into the wall. You leap a bit in alarm before speed-walking in, trying to keep the chance of him slapping a hand across the back of your head as you pass at bay. Your father storms into the house and slams the door shut, making the entire house shake.

"What the hell is that?" you hear your mother demand from the bedroom, and your trembling intensifies. She walks into the living room to find you and your father. "Nick? What are you doing home early?"

A familiar pang of sorrow strikes you through the heart. She didn't even ask how you were doing. She wasn't concerned about your absence after school. All she cared about was your father. You feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes, but you force yourself not to cry; crying during a family meeting would be a horrible idea.

Family meetings, as your parents liked to call them, were meeting held whenever you did something they didn't approve of. Once upon a time, they were meant to approach and acknowledge any missteps any family member was doing, even those not done by you, and the number one rule of family meetings was that no one would ever get in trouble. Unfortunately, as you grew older, that golden rule evaporated quickly. Now the number one rule of family meetings was that you always got into trouble one way or another, regardless of the topic addressed.

" _Tabitha_  here," your father snarled, straining your birth name through gritted teeth, "decided to let herself get bullied after school and miss the bus. I had to leave work early and pick her up."

Just as expected, your mother shot a nasty glare at you, and you cower before her. "Is this true?" she demanded.

Your instinct was to say no and try to defend yourself, but in their eyes that would mean you'd be calling your father a liar, and you learned not to do that. Instead, owning up to lesson number one drilled into your head that anything and everything that happens in the family is somehow your fault, you hang your head in defeat. "Y-Yes..."

"Look at your mother when you're talking to her!" your father roared behind you.

You quiver and look up, forcing yourself to interlock your mother's gaze, and you repeat yourself. "Y-Yes. I-I'm really sorry, though-"

"I didn't ask if you were sorry!" your mother interrupted. "You're always sorry! If I had a penny for every time an 'I'm sorry' slipped out of your mouth we wouldn't be living in this hellhole of a cramped house! Your father goes out of his way to make a living and earn money so he can afford to keep this house that shelters your ungrateful little ass, and you go out getting into trouble and make him come home! He lost precious time he could've been using making money! Now when we have to pull back on our groceries, we'll know exactly who caused it to be this way!"

"M-May I explain?" you whimpered, trying so desperately not to cry. You've learned that sometimes your parents would let you explain yourself if you asked for permission. You doubt they'd actually let you with how angry they are, but it was still worth a shot.

Thankfully, your parents decided to grant you mercy, for after a silent discussion was passed just by them looking at each other, your mother gave you a curt nod.

You proceeded to explain to them all that happened: how you were tripped after school and held down by the boys as you were tickle tortured by Sabrina. The bus had left long before you were actually saved by your teacher. You also explained how you fought as hard as you could against Ray's and Aaron's holds on you, but you just couldn't break free, and no one else wanted to help you.

To your horror, however, your mother was chuckling cruelly. "You missed the bus over tickling? How pathetic can you be, Tabitha? Even Chara would've put up more of a fight than you."

You flinch at this. Chara was the name of your mother's first child and your half-sister, back when she was married to another man. You never did find out exactly how she disappeared, but your mother claimed that she was a very disobedient child, and thus she ventured out to Mt. Ebott on her own one night never to return. Mt. Ebott was the mountain located on the outskirts of town where people go to commit suicide. There have ever been reported cases of six other children going there to end their own lives, and as expected they were never heard from again. There was actually an old legend that surrounded the mountain: that if you were to climb to its peak and fall through a hole you would fall into the world of vicious monsters who slaughtered any and all humans regardless of age, gender, or race. This most certainly didn't fail to scare you, as your parents would constantly threat to throw you into the hole themselves if you stepped too far out of line.

"I-I'm really sorry..." you whimper once again.

"Enough with the fucking sorry's already!" your mother snapped. "If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't be doing any of this shit! Nick, send her to bed!"

Your stomach dropped at this. You knew all too well that when your mother ordered your father to send you to bed, that of course meant she gave him permission to beat you. You begin to scream and plead for mercy as your father grips your arm tightly and yanks you into your room. He shut the door behind him before locking it to make sure you couldn't escape.


	3. Twist of Fate

A few weeks had passed since your last beating after your father had to pick you up from school. You had finally recovered from the beating, but a few of the bruises still showed. You made an effort to cover them up with a slightly oversized blue sweater with two pink stripes running horizontally along the chest and stomach.

It was Friday after school, and thankfully you were able to avoid Ray, Sabrina, and Aaron as you made your way to the bus. It always takes about an hour before it reaches your stop, and you would typically read a book for a little while until you became motion sick. At that point, you would stare out the window and daydream.

You loved to daydream. It was a great way for you to escape reality and enter the wonderful depths of your imagination, where you had three square meals a day, no beatings, and no bullies at school. But best of all, you had a mother and father who really did love and cherish you, just how you always wished out of your own parents but could never have.

"Frisk," a voice spoke sharply, causing you to jump in your seat. You look up at the bus driver, Mr. VanKretchmar, as he was the one who addressed you. He seemed to have tried calling you before - most likely by your birth name - as he looked very irritated and impatient. "I said this is your stop."

You duck your head in embarrassment as the remaining students sitting together in the back of the bus begin snickering to themselves. Muttering an apology, you slip on your backpack and walk slowly off the bus. Mr. VanKretchmar gives a little grunt of farewell before closing the door and driving off.

You look ahead of you and heave a heavy sigh. You lived with your parents on a long graveled driveway surrounded by other houses. As luck would have it, your house is all the way at the end, quite a bit away from anyone else. It took you about half an hour to walk home, and the heat of the sun in spring or the chill of the wind at autumn or winter added on to the pain of the sharp stones spiking your feet through the soles of your shoes left you exhausted at the end of your trek. You sigh once again before beginning your long walk up the hill.

After what felt like forever, you finally make it to the front door. Gulping nervously, you slowly turn the knob... only to find it's locked. Your father must have locked the door when he left for work and your mother forgot to unlock it for when you came back home.

Thankfully, you know what to do in a situation like this, for it had occurred quite a few times before. The only problem is you'd have to walk to the back of the house, and that's where a lot of spiders like to build their webs. You had horrible arachnophobia. But there was no other way. Your mom would become angry at you if you didn't try to work around the situation instead of giving up and requesting to be let in. You get the sneaking suspicion that sometimes she left the door locked on purpose.

You carefully make your way to the back of the house where a fence stood. It was built a long time ago when your parents owned a dog, but Lilac had passed away a few years ago. No one took down the fence yet, which proved to be a real obstacle for you whenever you were locked out. You always had to climb over it, which forced close encounters with spiders. You shivered and spent a few minutes psyching yourself up before beginning the climb over the fence.

Eventually you make it to the top, and you mentally prepare yourself to jump down to the other side. More often than not you'd end up falling over or your legs would give out under you when you land, and on occasion you would land awkwardly and sprain an ankle. Your parents always hated it when you hurt yourself, because then that meant they'd have to spend precious time and money trying to fix you back up. Gulping and hoping you don't hurt yourself too badly this time, you count down from three and jump. You land, and as expected your legs give out and you topple to the ground with a pained yelp. Thankfully, though, you didn't sprain anything this time.

You climb to your feet and brush the dirt and grass off yourself, checking yourself over for spiders. You ended up running into a spider web on your way down and you had gotten major creeps from it. After getting the last of the web off, you begin walking towards the back door. You stop in your tracks, though, once you feel something crawling on you. You look down, and to your horror you find a large spider crawling up your leg.

Immediately you scream as loud as you can and try kicking off the spider, but it holds on for dear life. At this point you're practically hysterical as you frantically swipe it off before making a break for the door. You turn the knob quickly and run inside, and almost immediately you collide with your mother who was carrying a bowl of soup. She lets out a shriek of pain and alarm as she falls to the ground, the soup spilling all over her.

You know immediately that you are in  **deep**  trouble...

Screaming, you sprint towards your room before your mother could have a chance to get up and shout, and you lock the door behind you. You then make a dive under your bed and cower there, dreadfully awaiting for your mother to scream your name and storm in.

But for some reason, you didn't hear anything. Everything was absolutely quiet save for a few dishes clinging together softly in the kitchen and the soft murmuring of your mother. She must be talking to your father on the phone, and that just made your stomach drop even further. Your were absolutely horrified, and you had a sinking feeling that this day was just going to get worse from here.

* * *

The sound of booming knocking on your bedroom door violently ripped you from your dreams, and you let out a scream of alarm. You had ended up falling asleep under the bed after about an hour of nonstop worrying over what was going to happen to you once your father came home, and when nothing happened for a while exhaustion flushed over you. Now, it was dinner time - dinner time for your parents anyway.

"Tabitha!" you heard your father bark on the other side of the door. "Come to the kitchen. Now." Without waiting to you to reply, you hear him storm away.

Whimpering in fear, you slowly climb out from under your bed and brush of your clothes of any dust. You just knew this was all going to end badly for you. But you knew you had to go and face whatever punishment your parents had in store eventually, and they hate it when you hesitate. Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down, you leave the safety of your room to confront your parents in the kitchen.

Almost immediately when you open the door you smell what seems to be meat, tomatoes, and spices. Instantly your fears about facing your parents were temporarily replaced with excitement, and your stomach rumbles loudly. You recognized that smell to be spaghetti and meatballs, one of your all-time favorite foods. You rush to the kitchen, and before you know it you're standing at the doorway where your mother and father are both glaring at you. Too late did it come to mind that they wouldn't have let you have any anyway, and the only thing you did was rush the reveal of your punishment. Your stomach drops once again, and suddenly you don't feel hungry anymore.

"Tabitha, come here," your mother demands coolly. You tremble a bit in fright before slowly making your way into the kitchen, wincing as your stomach growls louder at the strong and irresistible scent of dinner. Once you stand in front of her, she lets out a long, heavy sigh. Each word she speaks seems to be forced, as if she were reluctantly acting for something; your mother was never the best actress. "It seems... I have made a bit too much spaghetti tonight. We don't have enough room in the fridge for leftovers, and leaving the food out overnight will just leave bacteria to grow and we'll have to throw it out. So... I suppose... you can have what's left of dinner tonight."

You could not believe your ears. Instead of deciding to waste the rest of the spaghetti just to spite you, especially considering what you did to your mother earlier that day, they were going to actually let you eat! And it was one of your most favorite meals of all time! You barely managed to hold back shouting an energetic "Thank you!" or squealing with joy, but you couldn't hold back a smile.

"We are too tired to deal out your punishment at the time being," your father growled, making you gulp in fear and your smile vanish. "You spilled soup all over your mother's new dress, one she was saving up for for a long time. It's stained and ruined now thanks to you."

"I-I'm..." You manage to catch yourself before you finish your sentence. "I-I know... I just... saw a spider outside and..."

"The world is full of spiders," your father snapped. "Learn to control that stupid fear of yours in the near future."

Your mother grabs a plate of spaghetti already prepared and hands it to you. "Here. You'd better eat all of it."

"Y-Yes, ma'am." You take the plate and twirl a portion of noodles and sauce on your fork before taking a big bite. You haven't had spaghetti for as long as you can remember, and the flavors instantly melted in your mouth and seemed to fill you with life energy as well as eternal happiness. The sauce had a funny tang to it, but you brushed it off. It was just too good to acknowledge.

That was around when things started getting strange. You were still feeling a bit tired because you had just woken up, but all of a sudden you started feeling very exhausted. You were having trouble keeping your eyes open, let alone eat and stand. Panic began to rise in your chest as your grip on the plate and fork falter, and the dish and food both crash and splatter on the ground. You began stumbling a bit, trying to find your footing, and your focus began to swim.

"M-Mommy?..." you muttered, barely able to hear your own voice; it sounded like you were trying to speak underwater. You couldn't even see their faces clearly anymore; they were just fuzzy blobs at this point. The last thing you remember is feeling a dull pain in the back of your head as you fall over on your back.

Then everything went black.

* * *

Consciousness slowly began to flood back to you. As soon as your senses kicked in, everything began to ache badly. You find the strength to open your eyes, and you immediately see the night sky up above with multiple white dots dappling the endless black-blueness. Dim silver light shone through the large crater up above, causing the dozens of buttercups you were laying on to glow golden-silver. You saw that you were laying in a small flower bed in a patch of grass in a large cave, and the hole up above was far too high up to possibly be able to climb out of. You also feel something in your pants pocket.

Curious, you manage to sit up, moaning softly at the pain on your back and limbs. You figured there must've been a huge bruise on your back, but you ignored it for the moment. You reach into your pocket and find a folded piece of paper. You unfold the paper and read the message written on it.

_"Tabitha,_

_We have absolutely had it with you. You're annoying, expensive, and a waste of time and resources, and we've somehow managed to put up with your ridiculous antics until now. That dress your mother was wearing when you spilled soup all over her was bought with the money she's been saving up for three years, and the day she gets it you completely ruin it. We're not going to keep you around if you're just going to ruin all our hard work. Therefore, we decided to drug you. We put a sleeping drug in your spaghetti and fed it to you. While you were knocked out, we took care of you; we didn't need you kicking and screaming._

_You are currently in the cave on the summit of Mt. Ebott, home of the monsters. You know the ones; they're the vile creatures who prey on the souls of disobedient children. If you're still alive and are reading this, we guarantee you won't stay alive for long. It's only what you deserve for being a rotten little brat._

_Rest in pieces,_

_Nick and Summer Turr"_

By the time you finished reading the letter tears were falling down your cheeks. You knew deep down that your parents always hated you, but you didn't know they would go this far as to leave their only child for dead. What's worse is that they didn't even sign the letter as Mom and Dad, but just their real names. They had disowned and abandoned you to die at the hands of monsters, never to be heard from again.

You curl up in the flowers and hug yourself close, sobbing softly. You had never felt so alone in your entire life. You have just lost everything you knew - Ms. Hearthsbringer, Sarah, food and water... Granted there were still plenty of bad things up on the surface like your parents' abusive natures and the bullies, but you'd still give anything to return and not be stuck down here with monsters that fed on children's souls.

In reality, you hadn't for a second imagined that, upon meeting the first creature of the Underground - a petite little talking flower - your life would change forever for the better.


	4. The Final Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the super long wait, but the fourth and final chapter is finally here!

You were abandoned by your parents in Mt. Ebott, left alone to be slaughtered by the vicious monsters who inhabited the caverns. At first you were so terrified you considered laying in the flowerbed for the rest of your pitiful life, allowing yourself to painfully starve and dehydrate, or perhaps even eat some of the buttercups and let their deadly toxins save you from meeting your doomed fate with the monsters.

That is until a little flower found you weeping in the bed of buttercups.

Flowey seemed friendly enough, but when it was revealed all he wanted from you was your SOUL you felt strangely numb, almost to the point of accepting your fate.

But once Toriel saved you from the little flower's wrath and showed you mercy, you were completely flabbergasted. Everyone up on the surface told countless tales of horrible monsters who wouldn't wait a heartbeat to shred any disobedient child they found in their domain, so... what had Toriel saved you?

Toriel wasn't the only one who showed you mercy. After you reluctantly left the kind goat monster you came across a pair of rather goofy skeleton brothers. Sans was laid back and enjoyed cracking puns and jokes here and there, and even though his younger brother Papyrus was intent on capturing you to grant him access into the Royal Guard he had no true intention on hurting you, let alone killing you. And you had to admit, the little "date" the two of you shared was kinda fun and amusing.

The only ones who supposedly tried to kill you were Undyne, Mettaton, Muffet, and Asgore, but that was only due to desperation to escape, being programmed to hunt down humans, protecting family, and having a duty to fulfill, respectively. In time they all grew quite fond of you, and you of them, and you even conquered your fear of spiders thanks to Muffet.

At the end of your journey, you learned the tragic story of how these completely innocent and desperate monsters ended up Underground in the first place, and you felt so deeply sorry for the poor creatures. In a way, they all reminded you of yourself: harmless and compassionate living beings who wanted nothing more than to live in peace, but were instead treated poorly and were ultimately banished for reasons that were not their own.

After battling Omega Flowey, you were even more determined to save these poor monsters, knowing they lived alongside a horrid beast whom they didn't even know was so dangerous. Whether you deserved such awful treatment from anyone was debatable, but you knew in your heart and in your SOUL that these monsters did not. So, heeding the advice given to you, you RESET.

Despite going back in time to the point where Asgore hadn't been killed by Flowey, everyone remembered you - save for Asgore of course since he didn't get the chance to get to know you. When the time came for you to repeat your battle with the king of all monsters, you noticed a strange turn of events that weren't present the last time you fought: Toriel stopped Asgore from having the first move. Undyne persuaded him not to fight. Alphys calmed everyone down. Papyrus and Sans lifted the mood back up.

You were surrounded by those who _legitimately_ cared about you.

It all felt too surreal. Living with your parents taught you that no one in the world was ever going to like you or want to be your friend, and that whatever you said or did was just going to cause problems for everyone else in the long run. But now, you are seeing that perhaps your parents were wrong all along. You did deserve to be happy. You did deserve to be embraced and comforted and uplifted by people who did want to be your friends. And ironically, though definitely without complaint, it wasn't humans who had given you the love you so craved your entire life, but monsters.

For once in your life, you felt genuinely happy.

About a year had passed now since you were abandoned, and after you set the monsters free from their imprisonment thanks to the long-dead prince of the monsters Asriel - who to your surprise was originally Flowey - you settled down with your new family on the surface. You now resign in the dip of the valley next to the town you grew up in. Asgore wanted to call the place New New Home, but Toriel decided a better name would be Buttercup Valley. Monsters worked long and hard to build houses and buildings, and it took no time at all to build a brand-new town just for the monsters.

You now lived in a two-story house, painted white with a red rooftop by your request. You lived with your new mother and father, Toriel and Asgore. It took them a while, but the two boss monsters had finally made up, and even though they knew they could never have the same relationship they once had, they agreed to be friends and work together to raise you properly.

Sans and Papyrus also lived with you. They played the roll as your honorary older brothers. Not a day passed where you wouldn't spend time with the two skeletons, and no matter what kind of negative mood you were in they always found a way to cheer you right back up. You had even convinced the family to get a kitten. You wanted a puppy at first, but after remembering how poorly Papyrus got along with the meddling canine who kept stealing his bone attacks you settled with Sarah the sphynx cat.

Your life was finally everything you absolutely dreamed of. No abusive parents, no scraps of food for dinner, and no bullies. Just love and attention from all your friends and family.

* * *

You were busying yourself with homework. Toriel had opened her own school for monster children, and once humans moved into Buttercup Valley the school would be open for human children as well. Right now you were the only human attending the school - you were the only human in the entire town rather - but you didn't mind. The monster children were incredibly nice to one another and even more nice to you, which made you feel very happy. You've never had as many friends at your age. Your best friend was Monster Kid, an armless monster who was born male but also preferred gender-neutral pronouns. Perhaps that was a reason why you got along so well with them.

"Frisk, dear!" Toriel's call sounded from downstairs. "If you're not too busy, would you mind coming down to the kitchen?"

Your very first thought was that you were in some kind of trouble _yet again_ , and you were going to be severely punished for it. It took you a little while to calm yourself down and remind yourself that you were no longer living with Nick and Summer, but Toriel and the other monsters. You take a deep breath, yet you were still on edge from the startle, and you return your mother's call with a loud, "Coming!" You haven't been told to keep quiet by your new family, but rather they encouraged you to express whatever was on your mind verbally, and your voice rang out clear as day as opposed to the previously low rasp. Climbing from your chair, you slowly make your way downstairs, nervously fiddling with your shirt.

Once you reach the bottom step you stop to take another deep breath to calm yourself. It was all going to be okay. You were not in trouble. Toriel will not scold you with nasty words. Asgore will not beat you senseless. Sans and Papyrus will not bully you to tears.

_But what if they will?_

A sob began to painfully rise in your chest, threatening to break free, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. You hoped with all your heart that living with the monsters would set you free of the endless torture and agony you've had to deal with from your birth parents. You just couldn't go through the same kind of abuse again.

Reluctantly you headed to the kitchen, and before you even saw the faces of your new family, expressions darkened with fury at whatever you did wrong, the sob broke through.

"Happy birthday!" A chorus of shouts rang through the house, causing you to jump in alarm. You look up and see your family not angry, but very happy.

The kitchen was decorated with streamers and cut-out hearts taped to the walls, colorful confetti dappled the white tiled floor, and the delicious aroma of freshly-baked birthday cake wafted through the room. The monsters themselves wore party hats and held boxes wrapped in colorful paper in a variety of sizes. They had even invited Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Napstablook, and Monster Kid to the party, and all five of them were grinning just as brightly as Toriel, Asgore, Sans, and Papyrus.

You were not expecting this. You had expected birthday beatings, a "birthday tradition" that involved the minutes being as long as your age was of beatings. You didn't know a real birthday party consisted of cake and presents and colorful decorations.

If your family didn't notice you sobbing before, they sure would now, as your emotions collapsed in on you and you fell to your knees, weeping uncontrollably as teardrops plopped to the floor.

"Oh, my Goodness, Frisk!" Toriel placed the cake on the counter and whipped off her oven mitts to kneel down next to you and wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. "My child, whatever are you crying for?"

"Did we startle you?" Asgore frowned guiltily.

"Or perhaps there aren't enough decorations?" Mettaton suggested.

"Or maybe there are too many presents for you to go through!" Papyrus declared.

You shake your head as you sob over Toriel's shoulder, hugging her broad, fluffy neck gently as to not choke her. Why were they fretting over if you were scared? Why were they concerned about the number of presents or decorations? Why were they caring at all?

"Do you wish to tell us what's wrong?" Toriel invited gently as she glided a paw up and down your back, which did wonders in soothing you.

You sniffle and try to wipe your tears away even though they refused to stop falling. You let go of your adopted mother and your breath hitches as you struggle to contain the sobs.

"What's wrong, Frisk?" Monster Kid fretted with a frown. "Why are you sad?"

"I... I'm not sad," you choked out, forcing a quivering smile. "I'm happy."

"But tiny human, if you are happy why are you crying?" Papyrus asked as his sockets slightly narrowing in confusion.

"Those're called tears of joy, bro," Sans piped in, his casual smile drooping a bit in concern.

You nod slowly in agreement. "It's just... I've never had a real birthday party before."

"What do you mean you've never had a real birthday party before?" Undyne exclaimed. "You should always get an awesome party with a ton of food and presents!"

You shake your head. "That's not what I've had... My birthdays weren't celebrated. They... They were... just another excuse my parents had to punish me."

The collected sounds of confusion filled the kitchen as the monsters exchanged stumped glances.

"Whatever do you mean, child?" Toriel asked.

You did all you could to keep what had happened with your parents to yourself as to not worry your friends, but everyday it was getting harder and harder to keep your emotions of the tragic childhood bottled up inside. You would often become either very saddened or so happy you cried in response to activities the family shared with you, wishing your birth parents would've given you the same love and affection. You never knew the life of a child could actually be a lot of fun, or that you had to walk on eggshells around your family.

With a heavy sigh, you realized things weren't going to get any better for you unless you spilled out exactly what you had gone through in the past. Perhaps if you did so and your family would listen, you could finally let go of the past and be at peace with your new life. Slowly you took in a shaky breath. "You see..."

A knock at the door interrupted you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. Toriel looked in the direction of the front door with a look of confusion. "That's funny, I don't remember inviting anyone else. Please excuse me." She gave you one final supportive squeeze before letting you go to answer the front door. Still sniffling, you decided to approach the others.

A familiar voice at the front door made you freeze in your tracks and your heart fill with dread. No, it couldn't be...

"May we come in?" a woman's voice asked gruffly. "We have important matters we must discuss."

"Um, please come on in?" Toriel's puzzled voice replied. She stepped aside to let the guests in, and they headed straight for the kitchen.

You could've sworn your heart stopped beating for a moment or two.

" _NO!_ " you shrieked at the top of your lungs when you saw your birth parents standing at the doorway, and you scrambled to hide behind Sans and Papyrus.

"Whoa, whoa, kid, what's wrong?" Sans gasped, completely taken aback by your sudden outburst, as was everyone else.

"Hello there," Summer greeted as politely as she could muster. "My name is Summer Turr and this is my husband, Nick Turr."

Nick gave a curt nod before picking up where his wife left off. "We have come to take back our child."

"Goodness, is Frisk your child?" Asgore replied in surprise.

" _Tabitha_ is indeed our daughter," Nick confirmed through gritted teeth. You noticed his hands beginning to ball up upon hearing someone use your preferred name as opposed to your birth name. "We will be taking her back now."

"No, please no!" You grip Sans' jacket tightly, clinging to the smaller skeleton for dear life, the tears falling down your cheeks once again. "Don't let them take me! Please don't let them get to me!"

"Oh, come now, Tabitha, you're making a scene," Summer glared down at you. "Nick, you can retrieve her."

Nick began to quickly advance on you, and you let out a horrified shriek.

In an instant, Undyne leaped in front of the man to cut him off. "Hold it! First off, their name is Frisk and they are gender-neutral. Also, it's pretty clear they don't want to go back with you."

" _Tabitha_ is my _daughter_ , and I will be taking _her_ back to our home where _she_ belongs," Nick snarled, glaring dangerously at the bipedal fish monster.

"We are her parents, and thus it is our legal right to take her back," Summer added.

"Don't let them take me, please!" you pleaded desperately. "I don't wanna go back! They beat me and shun me and send me to bed without dinner!" You flinch heavily at the loud gasps that filled the room, each monster's face portraying utter disbelief, horror, and fury.

"How dare you lie about us!" Summer barked angrily. "We do not beat you!"

"Yes, you do! You beat me every birthday! Last year when I turned nine, you beat me for nine minutes straight! I couldn't sit right for a month!"

"You are a filthy little liar," the woman scowled. "Nick, grab her!"

Quicker before anyone could react, the man lunged out for you and fastened his strong hand around your wrist, nearly crushing the bones as his arm trembled in rage. You shriek in a mix of pain and panic as you struggle with all your might to tug away. " _Let go of me!_ "

Nick's SOUL immediately turned blue and he was flung into the air, instantly letting go of you. He let out a pained shout as he was slammed into the ceiling.

Sans held his arm out, his left eye glowing electric blue, and he grinned at the man dangerously. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, buddy. Kid doesn't wanna go, so they're stayin' right here."

"You will not keep us away from our child! We _own_ her!" Summer bellowed, quickly approaching you and reaching out to grab you.

Undyne lunged forward and shoved the woman away, knocking her to the ground. "You will not touch this child! If we have to FIGHT to the death to protect them from you, I will FIGHT until my last dying breath!"

"She has been taught well, so I wouldn't advice challenging her," Asgore warned as he shot the hostile humans a glare. "I suggest you two go back home and leave us in peace."

"You realize it's illegal to take our own child away from us, do you not?" Summer snapped.

"If I recall, child abuse, neglect, and abandonment are also illegal," Papyrus retorted coolly, crossing his arms.

"And if we make it obvious that this child is in pain, the authorities will agree that keeping them away from you would be the best thing for them, legal or not!" Mettaton added, too enraged to throw in a flashy pose.

"With that being said," Toriel finished firmly, "I must ask you two to leave our home."

"Not without Tabitha." Summer spaced out her words in pure rage, each one more forced than the last, as she struggled to keep the last thread of her patience in tact. If looks could kill, every single monster in the house would be turned to dust in an instant.

"What will you gain from taking them back with you?" Toriel challenged. "It's clear they don't want to go back with you, and judging by how they ended up in Mt. Ebott in the first place you didn't want anything to do with them, as utterly horrible as that may be. You'll have nothing to gain by taking Frisk back, rather you will just put all our lives in misery, including your own. Why should a child go back to a place where they aren't loved?"

Summer glared dangerously at the goat monster for a while longer before clicking her tongue in disgust, finally giving in. "Fine. Keep the little rat. We don't care. She wasn't any use to us anyway, all she did was cause us trouble."

"Then why did you come after them in the first place?" Undyne exclaimed.

She got no answer as Summer stomped towards the front door without looking back. Once Nick was released of Sans' spell, he collapsed to the ground with a groan and looked up to scowl at you, almost as if he wanted to kill you. You whimper and tremble in Sans' embrace, watching as the man got to his feet and continued glaring at you.

"That includes you, good sir," Toriel growled.

Nick kept his murderous gaze on you for a while longer before finally breaking away, heading to the front door after his wife. He slammed the door behind him, causing the house to tremble.

They were gone. Nick and Summer were finally out of your life. You were finally free from their abuse and torment. You could finally live the live you have always yearned for. Tears slid down your cheeks as you whimpered, overjoyed giggles mingling with stressful sobs.

You were finally at peace.


End file.
